


Bloom

by iaintafraidofnoghostbear



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Cock Slapping, Is it still cock slapping if it's not a cock anymore, M/M, STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT - Freeform, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 06:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20003896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iaintafraidofnoghostbear/pseuds/iaintafraidofnoghostbear
Summary: Travis needs help to ... blossom.





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tampa_bae_frightening (steven_damnkos)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steven_damnkos/gifts).



> Birthday fic for tampa_bae_frightening inspired by [this video](https://stimman4000.tumblr.com/post/186506121683).  
> Also warning for vague implications of a league breeding program. I didn't know how to put that in the tags.

The bud between his legs  _ itches _ . Ivan’s has flowered already - a big, rosy bloom that opens readily when someone touches it. He’s admitted to Travis that the trainers had chosen a date for him to get pollinated by some of the other guys - who, exactly, they’re waiting on management to decide. Claude is a given, and Wayne and Jake are almost sure bets, but there could easily be up to five guys given the opportunity. 

  


Travis has tried everything to get his to bloom - petting, warm baths and showers, misting - but nothing has worked. He can feel the strain of it, the need building like an ache low in his gut. It makes him miserable and short-tempered, something he feels bad about but can never seem to hold back in the moment. 

  


Claude calls him out on it after practice, tells him to come over to his instead of heading home. He sits Travis down on the couch, plopping onto another part of the sectional with a sigh and studying Travis with too-knowing eyes.

  


“You haven’t bloomed yet, huh?” 

  


Red-faced, Travis shakes his head. “I-I tried all the tricks the trainers gave me. It feels … tight. It sucks.” 

  


“I can help with that.” Claude’s words catch Travis off guard, as does the moment he glances away from Travis, cheeks flushing. “Danny had to do it for me, back in the day. I was a late bloomer, too, and it started to affect my play. It’s going to suck, at first, but then it’ll be done.” 

  


“Yeah,” Travis has to clear his throat, nodding his head. “Yeah, okay.” 

  


“C’mon.” 

  


It’s both strange and comforting to be in Claude’s bedroom for this, especially when Claude tells him to take his pants off. He wouldn’t have been able to do it in the living room, nevermind sit bare-assed on Claude’s pristine white couch. The bud twitches in the cool air and Travis struggles to not close his legs as Claude looks at him. 

  


“Don’t be shy. We all have one. Lay back, and I’ll join you on the bed, alright?” 

  


Shuffling backwards, Travis lets himself sink into the soft bed. He still squirms when Claude climbs up between his legs, holding a towel and a mister bottle. The towel he arranges under Travis to protect the bedding. 

  


“I’m gonna spray it down first to get it to relax as much as I can. Then I’ll need you to hold still, alright? It’s going to hurt, but I promise it won’t last long.” 

  


“Oh-okay.” 

  


Claude rubs his thigh, looking down at him sympathetically. “I know you’re scared and this is awkward. But it’s going to be alright. I’m here to take care of you.” 

  


Travis knows Claude is being genuine; he has those moments of earnest caring between all the chirps and the shit talk and this is one of them. Nodding, Travis closes his eyes and lays back, fisting his hands in the bedding. 

  


The warm water Claude mists over him feels good. The bud expands outward even more from its resting state, where it’s normally curled tight against his body. He shivers as some of the water drips down, but trusts that the towel tucked under him will catch it. A few moments pass as Claude waits, the bud eventually growing to the point where it should bloom but no further. 

  


“God, no wonder you’re cranky. It’s so close but sealed up tight still,” Claude murmurs softly. “I’m going to touch you now, okay? I need you to try to keep your legs spread for me.” 

  


Travis braces himself for the touch, but it only goes so far. Claude’s gentle at first, cupping the bud in his palm and thumbing over it. It feels good - the kind of good that would be getting his cock hard if the bud hadn’t replaced it. His face gets hot, body thrumming the more Claude pets at it like he’s trying to coax it open. Travis wishes it would work, but he knows it’s not going to. 

  


“Stay still, now. This is the worst part.” Travis tenses, trembling when Claude closes his fingers to hold the bud tightly. He’s not ready for Claude to strike it open-palmed, his whole body jerking and twisting away from the pain. He manages to knee Claude in the side in the process and Claude promptly lets go. 

  


“Fuck,” he wheezes, rubbing the sore spot. 

  


“S-sorry I - Jesus fuck, Claude.” 

  


“It’ll work, I swear, but you gotta not kill me in the process, kid. Look, it’s already started.” Sure enough, when Travis looks down, he can see yellowy-pink peeking out of the tip. 

  


“Al-alright. Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

  


“I know it hurts. Here.” Claude nudges his legs together, straddling him instead and clenching his thighs tight. “Don’t you fucking knee me in the balls.” 

  


“I-I won’t.” 

  


Clenching his eyes closed, Travis tenses, holding his entire body stiff so he doesn’t jerk so much. This time, when Claude strikes it, he does several fast blows that make Travis arch, and writhe, but he manages not to hit Claude. Claude does it again, then he circles his fingers around the top, stroking down over the bloom with a tight grip. 

  


“Oh  _ God _ .” That feels … better than it should and Claude keeps doing it until Travis is practically fucking up into the touch. It gets more and more sensitive, pleasure humming through Travis now and he’s orgasming before he can even fathom that it’s going to happen. 

  


“There you go,” Claude says softly. His hands are gentle, now, and Travis glances down. The whole flower is yellowy-pink, carefully cradled in Claude’s hand. He’s trailing his fingers through the petals to separate them, and every bit of his hand is covered in pollen and some sticky, clear fluid. 

  


“I - I didn’t mean to-” 

  


“I know. I knew you would. You needed to, and I thought if I told you, you’d psych yourself out. But you’re all done, now. Are you okay?” 

  


“Yeah.” Travis’ face is hot, body still humming with pleasure despite his embarrassment. It’s not helped by Claude’s continued touching, every brush of Travis’ petals sending sparks through him. 

  


“Good. I’m sorry that hurt, but you shouldn’t have any more problems now. Just make sure you stimulate it regularly and let the trainers know you’re ready.” 

  


Claude wipes his hand on the towel and offers Travis his bathroom to clean up. There’s pollen and more of that liquid on this thighs where it had dripped from the flower. The bud closes slowly until it’s neatly tucked away, and Travis notes with some relief that all of the ache that had been haunting him is gone. He wipes up, careful not to stimulate it so it will stay closed.

  


When he emerges, Claude has already cleaned off the bed, towel gone and Travis’ pants and underwear waiting for him. He tugs them back on gratefully, feeling a bit more embarrassed now that he can think clearly. 

  


Claude’s puttering around his kitchen, putting together some sandwiches and he pushes the plate toward Travis when he spots him. “Eat. And don’t feel awkward. You didn’t do anything weird or wrong, alright?” 

  


“Okay.” Travis sits like Claude clearly expects him to, helping him to steadily demolish the plate of sandwiches. “Thanks. I feel a lot better.” 

  


“I bet. I remember how much that sucked.” Claude takes a drink to clear his mouth and gives Travis a once over. “Remember, let the trainers know you’re ready, and don’t let  _ anyone  _ producing pollen near it when it’s open until you have your appointment.” 

  


“Yeah, G. I know.” Travis rolls his eyes as he stands up and gets a slug to the arm for his trouble. 

  


“Brat. I’ll see you tomorrow alright?” 

  


“Yeah. Thanks again, Claude.” 

  


“Sure, kid.” 

  


Travis gets an Uber home, and tries not to think too much about his future “appointment”, feeling his bud twitch inside his shorts despite himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://iaintafraidofnoghostbear.tumblr.com/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blue Flowers Blooming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021473) by [AetherSeer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AetherSeer/pseuds/AetherSeer)




End file.
